


The Curse

by ElzyAfterDark



Series: Discord Suggested Stories [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Mild Mind Control, Orgasm Denial, curse, petrification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18455915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElzyAfterDark/pseuds/ElzyAfterDark
Summary: An idea suggested on a Discord channel.





	The Curse

The healer took one look at the man who had come to see her and knew he was enchanted or bewitched in some way. He was a man fitting the general look of a traditional adventurer, not exceptionally attractive to her rational mind, average and possibly okay for a quick moment's fun, but she had found herself briefly desiring to rip off her robes and take him there. And since he wanted a healer, likely bewitched.

"I am Lowpike, I am suffering under the effects of a curse."

"Please explain the effects you have noted," She said, resisting the growing urges.

"Essentially, any woman I speak to for too long becomes attracted, sexually. I have tried to decline it, but the urge grows on both of us over time. As a healer, I know you may be able to fight the effects, possibly long enough to help me."

She could fight it, yes, but probably not for long.

"To counter a curse can be complicated. Please tell me how it all happened," she said, knowing that as he explained she would only feel more and more arousal.

*

A week before, Lowpike had been in a tavern, seeking the company of a woman for the night. However, one fuming woman present had had enough of his lechery, it seemed. She had red robes, and hair a dark brown.

"I have seen you here many nights, and each eve seeking a different whore. Men like you sicken me, and so do those who would open their legs just to let you likely spill seed in them in moments."

Lowpike was ready to protest, but the woman waved her hand, and a strange feeling of calm came over him.

"Well, let them experience pleasure. Let it be that any woman will come to you. Let them experience pleasure forever, and let you never again, let them all want you, and yet never get what you want from them," she said, and then walked away.

Lowpike's feeling of calm faded, but with the woman gone, he went back to his efforts, succeeding with one of the tavern maids.

The maid was a beauty, with tanned skin, blonde hair, and medium breasts, soon free of her white blouse in his room. Neither was interested in foreplay, hitching up her skirts, unbuttoning his breeches, and getting to work. His penis thrust into her, the maid tight and unable to take his full length at first, but as they writhed, as his hands fondled her breasts, as they kissed, Lowpike realised that things were taking longer than usual.

He felt the pressure spike in his loins, like orgasm was imminent... but nothing. He began to thrust harder and harder, the maid moaning and yelping in pleasure as he tried to drive himself over the edge, but nothing happened, the pressure just seemed to build and build. Frustrated and yet ever more aroused, he kept up his efforts until the maid gave one last gasp, he felt her contract around him, and then she froze.

He felt the warm soft wetness of her vaginal tunnel, still slick with her arousal, grow cold. Her eyes glazed over, the moan fading off but her mouth still wide open in pleasure, and with horror he saw that she was turning to stone. A moment after her orgasm, the blonde maid was now a light grey statue. Her pubic hair, flattened and dampened onto her mons by their mixed sweat and her secretions spread out by his work, was solid. Her nipples were but stone buds atop globes of rock.

And Lowpick was somewhat stuck inside her now-petrified vaginal walls.

*

"I eventually became free as my arousal faded, and her stone body chilled. But I fled. As far as I know, she and the others are still stone."

"...The others?" The healer asked, catching her hands from slipping below her robes.

"Four others. The same situation. They seemed to orgasm and petrify, but I... I cannot even seem to produce more than a dribble of pre-ejaculate no matter what. My hand does not bring release, the hand of any of the women did not. Even trying oral or anal, failed. Even trying to bring the woman to orgasm with only my mouth petrifies her."

The healer had heard enough.

"Well, I know of this curse, and there is only one cure. Find the witch who first cast it, and inflict it on her. Once she is stone, she can be cured by a cursebreaker should you so wish, but she will have protected herself. My advice, use a potion on her."

"That seems... unethical," Lowpick frowned.

"Yes, but so is a healer having sex with her patients, and thats about to happen," she gasped, pulling her robes off and tugging down her breast bindings to expose her naked form.

"But I told you that you'll...."

She placed a finger on his lips.

"The curse has me. I have offered you a solution. Your payment for my services is to find that witch and turn her to stone.... after you turn me. That should release the others her curse has afflicted."

With reluctance, wishing his aching need for orgasm wasn't there, wishing he had not drawn a fifth victim to become an orgasming statue in, he divested himself of his own clothing.

"Have you tried... to keep going? Once the woman is stone?" The healer asked as she was taken from behind, facing a mirror.

"It does not work, even with lubricant," Lowpick grunted as he thrust.

"Give me the effort again once I am stone," she gasped.

Lowpick agreed, and the pair fell silent but the sounds of their pairing. But for the healer, the buildup peaked, and she felt her muscles contract. A low moan was her final sound before she petrified, struggling to keep her eyelids open, staring at herself in the mirror as she became stone.

And as she expected, she could still feel. Her orgasm felt like it was still going, but weaker, and as Lowpick whispered an apology, she was delighted to realise she was right - his every thrust was like a new climax. But sooner or later, he had to give up, even with the application of more lubricants as the ones she had produced when flesh dried out.

And so, Lowpick left another town with a statue, this time, their healer.

She hoped he found the witch soon, but being a statue trapped in this pleasure wasn't quite the worst fate she could imagine. And if found stone before Lowpick found his quarry, well, her apprentice was a smart girl. She'd keep her safe.

*

It was a month before Lowpick finally found the witch again. A month, and almost two dozen more petrified and lewd statues, and an almost constant ache in his testicles and penis - they had even swollen, as if all the semen he should have released was backed up. She just walked up to him with a gleam of recognition in a tavern, as he had tried to ignore the pretty barmaid.

"Ah, the man-whore. Have any good times lately? You'll be happy here, plenty of future statues. No relief, though," she giggled.

"No. Except with you," He said.

"Oh, but Lowpick... that is your name, yes? You don't have the means. I'm not attracted to you, I made the curse. And you're never going to overpower me. Not when I can just do this..."

With a wave, he felt like his five weeks of blue balls doubled. She quickly grabbed his testicles, giggling as they grew even more swollen.

"That's a few more weeks worth all backed up now. Driving you insane, isn't it? Makes you want to just go seduce a woman? Well, the bigger they get, the more women you'll draw in. And they'll soon realise you're the one leaving statues everywhere. Do you know what they decided to do with that first maid?"

He shook his head.

"She's become property in her tavern for real. Earning a tidy profit from men like you. Sparing other women from you pigs. Another little part of my curse, other men like you are drawn to the statues, and whoever found them soon begins to charge a fee. Does that please you? Knowing that you've left dozens of stone whores to spare real women the disgusting displeasure of some adventurer shooting his load and leaving her with the possible consequences? Knowing you're earning tidy profits for their new owners?"

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

"If I can stop just one unwanted life that turns out like mine, it is a victory. My mother was barely an adult when some lecherous Paladin took her like a prize, plying her with drink and then leaving her sobbing the next day. And of course she took it out on me over the years after, her bastard spawn from a drunken fumble when she could barely think let alone agree to sex. But she's gone now. And with help from men like you, others like her and the men that would make them like her are being stopped."

"You've done this before, to others."

"Correct! Some went mad and killed themselves. Some went mad and tried to force themselves upon any woman they saw - and were executed. Some went mad and tried to hide in the woods forever. They tried it all, buggery with women, with other men, one sick example even tried his own horse. But in the end they all go mad, and make it clear what danger they pose."

She smirked.

"You, however.... you've been lucky. You manage to flee the scene each time. A bit cowardly for an adventurer type, but not my problem. I just get to see how much of a mess you become."

Lowpick was silent.

"You could beg, you know. Beg me to free you."

"...I could. But I was waiting to be sure it was going to work."

"What?" The witch frowned.

"I couldn't 'overpower' you even with your abilities. I'm not that kind of guy. I had consent every time until you cursed me. You made me enchant and seduce all those women - they were made as if drunk, like you said your mother was. I can't trust your story about your mother, for all I know it's just an excuse you use to justify things to yourself. But you're insane, and a danger, and a hypocrite. Still, it should be working now. I slipped the potion in your drink an hour ago."

"But... how?" She asked, feeling dizzy.

"I'm not an adventurer. I'm a thief."

"What did you do..."

"Oh, it's just a potion to suppress your magic. If I'm right, your own curse defences will be weakened, yes? Maybe we can finish this conversation somewhere private?"

"I... but... You..."

She stumbled to try and leave, but turned to grab his arm, practically dragging him away as she fell victim to her own curse.

"It gives me no pleasure, truly. But you made this curse, and I'm not the only victim. Tell me, the others petrified by the other men, what will happen to them when you're stone?" Lowpick asked as they entered his room.

"They'll... revert. Some have been statues for years though, the constant orgasm and use as their curse drew in men to use them will have driven many them of mad. You'll be unleashing hundreds of whores!"

"I'll be freeing them."

"No... they're nothing but whores..."

He helped her take the red robes off, watching her keep struggling with herself. It felt wrong to him in many ways, but he knew the choice was no longer his. The witch soon moaned under him, her efforts to speak and justify herself fading away.

And then came one last moan as her curse claimed her too, transformed into the same grey as the rest. Lowpick pulled free of her, and groaned himself as finally, he orgasmed. Strings of his semen shot over the grey and petrified witch, almost coating her with the white fluid. By the time it ended, leaving him gasping and panting, she looked like dozens of men had came over her. Her face dripped, her stone breasts were coated in the liquid, it pooled in her nest of stone pubes, it flowed and dribbled down into the open cavern her vagina was frozen as.

Across hundreds of miles, other statues reverted, some in mid-use as their new callings. One of them, a former healer, simply told her startled 'customer' to keep going, at least until her apologetic apprentice had the curse that made her rent out her petrified mistress lifted and burst in to beg forgiveness.

But in that room, Lowpick was left with a dilemma. He could have her curse cured now, fully, even she would be no victim. But what justice could be done? She'd likely ensnare another man.

He decided to simply clean her up a little, using her red robes to mop much of his ejaculate up, and leave.

She would be found by the tavern master the next day. He was shocked, but soon, the last effects of the curse would affect him. So it was the witch would soon become the last of her own victims, forever, earning the tavern a tidy profit. She would practically be a fountain from all the men who would be drawn to her...

Lowpick, however, was long gone - and had no intentions to ever see her again. Instead, he was going to keep an eye out for witches from now on.

 


End file.
